


Harry Potter and the Curse of the Chicken McNuggets

by howlhowl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunk Harry, Harry Potter Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, M/M, Post War, Post-Hogwarts, Sad times, actually not a funny fic despite the title
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 15:51:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11256105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howlhowl/pseuds/howlhowl
Summary: Harry is drunk and goes to McDonalds for drunk food. But who does he meet there....





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is all eve's fault. honestly. and this http://imgur.com/gallery/mu3zo  
> 

Harry was drunk. So drunk. Definitely too drunk to apparate home. And so hungry. Merlin's pants, he was SO HUNGRY. He was stumbling in what he hoped was the vague direction of 12 Grimmauld Place. Everything was a little hazy. He had spent yet another night in a muggle pub drinking. This time it had been whiskey. You would think he had had enough practice by now, but damn, muggle alcohol sure packed a punch. 

But now he was hungry. So hungry. It was all he could think of. But it was late. Everywhere was closed by now. He groaned in frustration. He knew for a fact there would be nothing to eat at 12 Grimmauld Place. 

He kicked an empty coke can discarded by someone on the street as he shuffled along. It clanged as it hit a rubbish bin. Harry looked up from the ground and saw a shop window that was still lit. The sign above it glowed in large yellow letter. McDonalds. He remembered hearing that name a lot in his youth, when he lived with the Dursleys. Before the owls brought him a million mystery letters. Aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon used to talk about how they were taking Dudley there for a treat making a big deal about definitely not taking Harry with them. He had wondered what the fuss was about, but hadn't really thought about it in years. 

Not since he had found out he was a wizard. And about Voldemort. After first year, he had mostly holed out in his room, since he had a room, and ignored the Dursleys, just as they had ignored him. He'd had a lot to think about anyway, no time for wondering about Dudley's special treats. But now that Voldemort was gone and he was completely finished with his studies at Hogwarts and everything was 'well', he was a wizard of leisure with all the time in the world on his hands. For so long he had wanted to be an Auror but once the war was over, it didn't feel like the thing he wanted to do with the rest of his life anymore. He was done with war and death and dark magic. He'd had enough trouble for a lifetime. The only thing was he still hadn't figured out what he did want to do. At the moment he was just drifting, sulking around 12 Grimmauld Place, drinking his evenings away in muggle pubs.

His mouth watered at the thought of food. He tried the front door. It opened, but the shop was empty. No other customers, and he couldn't see anyone behind the counter either. Muggle pop music was playing in the background. Something about living la vida loca. 

Harry walked slowly to the counter and started reading the brightly lit menu boards above it. Big Mac. McChicken. Chicken McNuggets. Fries. Something called a Happy Meal.

Harry tilted his head to the right. Chicken McNuggets sounded kind of familiar if you removed the Mc from the middle. He was sure he'd eaten chicken nuggets at the Dursleys'. Chicken McNuggetts sounded like a safe bet. And fries were chips, right? He'd had chips before. Chips were good.

"Can I help you?" someone said in a bored voice. The question seemed to end with a tired sigh.

Harry looked down from the menus and saw a surprisingly familiar face. He wasn't looking up at him, his eyes were on the till. But Harry would have recognised that pale face and silver blond hair anywhere. It was longer than he'd ever seen it. It was past his shoulders, but it was pulled back on a tight sleek ponytail, and topped with a visor baring the shop's logo on the headband.

"Malfoy?" Harry gasped before he could help it.

Malfoy's head snapped up at the speed of a snitch. His eyes widened with horror as he laid them on Harry's face. 

"What are you doing here?" he hissed and glared daggers at Harry.

"Chicken McNuggets", Harry blurted out after just staring at Malfoy for what felt like forever, but was probably only five or ten seconds. He flushed red all over. What a dumb fucking thing to say. He wished he wasn't so bloody hammered.

The brightly coloured uniform was very different from the school robes he was used to seeing Malfoy in. But somehow it suited him, when it really shouldn't have. The garish colours contrasted against his pale complexion in a way that seemed to make his skin glow. And the awful shirt fitted his slender frame oddly well. It showed off his toned arms.

"Chicken McNuggets?" Malfoy sneered.

Harry attempted to shrug nonchalantly but who knows how it actually came off. He looked away and mumbled "Yeah. I'm hungry, ok?"

That probably would've come off cooler if he hadn't mumbled or looked away. Fuck. How was Malfoy having this effect on him? Must have been the drink. Yeah, that's it.

He looked up again and leaned on the counter. 

"What are YOU doing here though?"

"I work here", Malfoy frowned.

Harry raised one eyebrow quizzically. Or at least he hoped that's how it appeared on the outside. "You work here?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes Potter. What do you want?" 

"I told you, Chicken McNuggets", Harry shrugged. "And large fries", he added hastily. 

Malfoy frowned. "How many nuggets?"

"12", Harry blurted out the first number he could think of. 

"Coming right up", Malfoy said and turned away to put some very thin chips in the deep fryer, and then disappeared behind the shelfing and drinks machines behind the counter.

Harry sagged against the counter with his head in his hands. He was tired, drunk, hungry and confused. He was in no state to be bumping into Draco Malfoy. He just wanted his damn Chicken McNuggets and bed before he made any more of a fool of himself. "I'm hungry ok?" How stupid could he sound? Ugh. Wait. Why the hell did he care what Malfoy thought? Of All People?

That was the moment Malfoy reappeared with a paper bag in hand. "Here’s your Chicken McNuggets and fries." He stretched the last word in the a drawl, like he was mocking an American accent. He shoved the bag towards Harry across the counter. Harry shoved his hand into his jeans pocked and pulled out a crumbled £10 note. Malfoy took his payment with disdain and dropped his change on the counter as if he really really did not want to accidentally touch Harry's hand. He turned away as soon as the coins hit the surface.

"Wait", Harry shouted. "Can I get some ketchup?"

Malfoy stopped and seemed to take a long deep breath before he sighed "Sure." He turned around and opened a drawer underneath the till. He grabbed a handful of read sachets and dropped them in front of Harry and groaned "Anything else?"

"No. I'm good", Harry said quickly and scooped his condiments into his paper bag and almost ran out as a girl group sang something about not wanting no scrubs.

When he was out of the view from the store's windows he stopped to catch his breath and leaned against the dark display of a charity shop. He slid down to sit on the pavement, opened the paper bag and started shoving chips into his mouth. Sweet greasy relief. He realised he should have asked for salt instead of ketchup but there was no way he would go back in there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops, Harry did it again.

Harry was standing in front of the McDonalds for the third night in a row. He was drunk again. The last two nights he'd just stood outside, just staring in without going inside. It looked like he was going to do the same again. He was about to turn around and go home, but then he spotted a familiar silver blond head partially obscured by that visor behind the counter and went in. He walked slowly and carefully to seem less drunk and leaned against the counter trying to be a cool guy but his elbow slipped and he almost banged his upper torso on the hard orange surface. Super smooth. He was even drunker than last time. 

Malfoy turned around after he recognised his returning customer, he scowled. 

"What do you want now, Potter?" he hissed, spitting out the last few syllables like Harry's name was poison.

"I want a Happy Meal", Harry said very slowly so he wouldn't slur, but he totally did. There was no hiding how the fact he was pissed. 

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed. 

"Fine. What drink do you want with it?"

Harry tried to read the names on the drinks machine behind Malfoy but his eyes wouldn't quite focus and read any of the names. "Surprise me", he mumbled and waved his hand majestically. 

"Whatever."

Malfoy disappeared behind the drinks machine and all that other stuff again with a sigh.

Harry hummed wordlessly along to the music on the store radio.

"You drive me crazy, I just can't sleep."

The lyrics seemed oddly appropriate. Harry was rather struggling to sleep. Even more than usual. He had been having nightmares for years. Probably since before the war, but he hadn't realised how bad it was thanks to the accidentally legilimentic visions about Voldemort, and the Real Life Horrors. And now he was scared of sleeping. Especially sober. The nightmares didn't seem to come if he passed out drunk instead of falling asleep. He would wake up on the cold stone floor of the kitchen in 12 Grimmauld Place feeling like something had crawled into his brain via his mouth and died a horrible death, but at least there hadn't been any gut wrenching nightmares, and that was a good thing. He'd rather deal with the hangovers and liver damage than the nightmares. But sometimes even being drunk didn't keep them away.

Now the nightmares were also accompanied by confusing dreams involving Draco Malfoy. Though Harry couldn’t never remember anything about those dreams other than the presence of Malfoy, while the nightmares would stick with him for the rest of the day. Sometimes the nightmares also melt into the Malfoy dreams and Harry would be weeping over Dobby's dead body, with that knife protruding grotesquely out of his chest and then he would look up behind him and Malfoy would be there with one hand on his shoulder, the other playing with his messy dark hair. Then he would lean over and gently kiss the lightning scar on Harry's forehead.

"Here's your stupid Happy Meal." Malfoy was back, jolting Harry back into reality. This time instead of a paper bag, he had a red box with pitched top with little yellow loops. It looked like a tiny red house with little handles. Weird.

"Ketchup?"

"Already chucked some in."

Harry pulled out a £10 note from his jeans pocket. Malfoy took the money and dropped the change on the counter like last time. Harry sighed, scooped the coins into his left hand & shoved the money back into his pocket. He looked up as he grabbed the funny little box, and locked eyes with Malfoy. He realised a single tear was running down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away hoping Malfoy hadn't noticed. 

He probably had though. Fuck. He definitely had noticed. His glare had turned to a shade of disgust, and then he looked a bit like he was going to maybe throw up but was determined not to. Wow. "I sure have a great way with people", Harry thought to himself. 

"I'm just gonna go then bye." 

He turned around and quickly stumbled out not even trying to fake being sober anymore. 

Outside Harry spotted a bench on the other side of the street. He sat down and opened his box. Inside he found a small burger, fries, drink, a mountain of ketchup packets and a toy in a clear plastic bag. He tore the packaging off the toy and inspected the green piece of plastic. It was a green toy dinosaur and it had little wheels on the bottom and wind up on the side. Harry wound it up carefully and let it loose on the ground. It whizzed around backwards for a minute but the street surface was uneven and it knocked itself over on the edge of a raised slab of paving, and it just fell over. It just laid there on the ground on its side, the tiny wheels still turning furiously against nothing making a buzzing sound. Harry stared at it till the wheels stopped. 

He sat on the bench and ate his meal but he felt far from happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't rate this at the moment. i don't know where it might go next, if it goes anywhere.  
> it might get another chapter, from Malfoy's point of view, by my fic partner in crime or by me, or it might not. we'll see.


End file.
